


A Day Where You Feel Better (A Ghost In The Back Of Your Closet)

by callmedok



Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: Character Undeath, Demigods, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Language, Original Mythology, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 09:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmedok/pseuds/callmedok
Summary: An old ghost from the Fire Baron's past finally finds it's way back into his present, and he has to deal with it somehow when Eddie leads him to it.





	A Day Where You Feel Better (A Ghost In The Back Of Your Closet)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who are you kissing?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033136) by [sonicsora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora). 



> Story title comes from Up The Wolves by The Mountain Goats.  
> Inspired by Chapter 14 of 'Who are you kissing?' by sonicsora.

“…Eddie, why the fuck couldn’t I have just ridden my bike?” Fire Baron asks, arms crossed as he leans back in the passenger seat of the Deuce because _seriously_ , this was less than a stone’s throw away from Bladehenge. Woulda been faster, if not easier, for him to have followed Eddie to whatever Eddie had wanted to show him.

Eddie coughs nervously, can’t quite look at the Baron as he replies “Um, y’know that- that Titan thing, where only Titan stuff can do things? It’s like-it’s like that, the car’s pure Titan so I mean-“

Baron snorts, flaps a hand in Eddie’s direction. “I get it, Riggs. If I die though, my men know who to hunt down.” He grins a bit wolfishly at that, and Eddie lets out a nervous laugh. God, why’d he have to give in to the Guardian asking for a favor. He didn’t even know if this was the right ‘short angry fuck on a bike’ but not many others fit the bill, and if he wasn’t the guy then Eddie would at least learn he could bring passengers with.

Two birds one stone… hopefully, anyways. The Guardian of Metal was weird sometimes, difficult to get a read on, so who even knows how it’d turn out if Eddie goofed it.

On the twisting route down to the Motorforge, with hints of superheated metal and the walls looking fresh off the anvil, Baron lets out a small “Hn,” in surprise trying to pay it cool. When you’ve seen the cathedral-esque cave in Doom territory this felt almost underwhelming, but at the same time… It rang a bell, in the back of his head. Memories of an adult with calloused hands and a calm voice, telling stories before bed about the Titans. Him and a gaggle of other kids listening intently, being wide-eyed himself hearing how they’d hollowed the world out to home their forges, hearing how they figured out how to make the hottest flames, made the best engines a Metal Beast’s roar couldn’t even compare.

This almost felt like a dream, and when they pop out at the end to a sea of lava and gigantic figures in the distance bringing their hammers down on something, he’ll deny fiercely that his jaw ever dropped. Eddie happened to look over at him then, wondering if Baron would have that same reaction of disbelief and awe, and bites back a laugh. He has some degree of self-preservation, and if the Baron felt mocked Eddie’s life would be hell the next few weeks.

“Don’t go too close to the edge, ain’t no soft landings here.” Eddie warns as he gets out of the Deuce, maybe unnecessarily but Barons weren’t exactly known for looking before leaping.

Baron makes a vague noise of agreement as he climbs out, always keeping a hand touching the car because _damn_ that drop was a doozy as he looks carefully over the edge at the lava below. A rush of hot air hits him then and he has to pull back immediately, worse than the time he nearly burned his eyebrows off. The heat down here is sweltering even if he’s shirtless, oppressive like being wrapped in too many furs when they were edging into the summer months.

~~Like when he was practically wrapped up in someone after a long day, someone with long hair and a ridiculous laugh and stupid round glasses and he hasn’t heard that laugh in _years-_~~

He’s about to ask Eddie why the fuck they’re down here, why they’re standing on a walkway out to nothingness, when there’s a sound from all around them. It’s loud enough to drown out the distant clang of the hammers on anvils, the occasional sound of bubbling lava, and it sounds human but not quite. Like something from Eddie’s car, where it strikes a chord on the inside yet still feels off.

Then the echoing trails off, a split-second sounding so _right_ , so familiar it hurts, and there’s a burst of lava at the end of the walkway right as it’s fading out. The lava cools instantly on impact, forming a tall figure in black robes with their hood pulled up. “Eddie, mate, I’ll fuckin’ owe you one for this,” the figure says, and Baron’s heart damn near stops because no way in godsdamn hell-

The figure pulls their hood back, dark hair framing their face and glasses catching the reflection of flames, and Baron finds himself without any words. What can you say when the person you loved, the person who you watched die, grins like a day hasn’t passed and walks closer. What can you do when they say “Hello, gorgeous,” in a voice you haven’t heard in years, the one that felt like home only to lose it too soon, and they reach out to touch you?

“…I’m going to fucking strangle you.” Baron finally says, smacking away the hand when it’s about to come down to rest on his shoulder. His chest feels tight and twisted, _lovereliefangermourningblame_ all warring with each other, and he’s thankful for his shades because he is not getting teary eyed damn it. When he reaches up to rub at his eye, it’s just the heat irritating them, fuck off.

“What, no ‘hello’, babe? No ‘Welcome back’?” The ghost from his past asks, and he looks older, he _sounds_ older, but it’s those same fucking shades whole instead of shattered, the same shit-eating grin. It’s _Oz_ , unmangled and alive, and he feels like there’s something weighing down on his chest. Like when his bike gets destroyed and he’s hit by the scrap, or when he was a jumped up little shit and rammed into a wall for the first time.

“Assholes who don’t tell me shit lose babe privileges,” Baron manages to get out, tries to turn it into joking but can’t quite get there. On one hand all he wants to do is reach out and bunch a hand in Oz’s robes, bury his face into the other’s chest, but on the other he’s angry. Eddie’s been coming down here who knows how long, been talking to Oz, and Oz never said anything? Never asked about the world above, couldn’t be troubled to ask what had happened to his fellow Barons?

Oz laughs, the sound that echoed everywhere once before, gives him the same smile that he wore before the first time they kissed (before all the other times they kissed), and most of the anger melts away. Most, because he’s still going to punch the bastard for being silent so long.

“What can I say, being ascended has its downsides.” Oz says, gesturing loosely at the world around them, and Baron lets out a shaky laugh giving up any pretense of playing it cool as a few tears end up trailing down his cheek.

“You ended up in a godsdamn myth, and couldn’t even drop a note?” He asks, heart pounding as he steps away from the Deuce closer to Oz. Close enough to grab at the fringe on his robes if he really wanted, see if the orange-red designs on them would radiate heat. His heart’s pounding in his chest, hands shaking slightly as he stops barely a few inches apart, tilting his head up so they can meet eyes.

“I couldn’t do anything til the Forges were raised, love. Got Eddie here to thank for that,” Oz says with a brief tilt of his head in Eddie’s direction, who gives them an awkward wave. “Now you’re stuck with me again.” He adds teasingly, reaching up to cup Baron’s cheek who doesn’t even bother trying to bat it away.

Oz is warm, the same small burns on his fingertips and the small scar on his cheek from their first fuck-up of a ride, and Baron has to laugh again as he covers Oz’s hand with his.

“You owe me, asshole. Too many years y’have make up for, y’ain’t leaving again anytime soon.”

“More than fair enough, gorgeous."

**Author's Note:**

> To quote something I joked about as part of a prompt:  
> 'a pyromanic and a semi-god who works with fire. It was made to be'  
> And then it all went downhill from there, after a fic broke my heart and I hastily slapped balm on the wound. The backstory is that the Guardian of Metal is a Baron who went down in enough glory that he got picked up by the Titans to do their shit, and Fire Baron never heard anything and thought he was permadead.


End file.
